You Made [M]e Squirt for the [F]irst Time

I hadn’t slept the night before, and I was still tired and anxious after my nap. We vaped a bit and settled in for an episode of Great British Bake Off you’d been trying to finish all week. But I’d missed you, so I couldn’t keep my hands from running over your muscular thighs, scraping my nails gently over you skin, tracing a pattern. Your large, strong hands roamed, raising goosebumps wherever they teased. I could feel your dick twitching and growing, but I didn’t want to touch it too soon – I’d already played with it earlier and selfishly wanted to leave you waiting for a while, I wanted to make every square inch of you feel good and awake. You distracted me with kisses, deep and delicious. I smoothed my hands over your broad chest, and your fingers traced the mounds and cleave of my breasts, gently grazing the sensitive underside, and circling my nipples. You took them into your mouth without a word; we’d recently had a conversation where I’d entreated you to suck my titties at your leisure: no need to ask, I’ll always want it. I tried to contain my moans as you licked, flicked and suckled my nipples and breasts, whimpering as softly as I could. I could feel myself soaking my underwear. You asked to eat my ass, so I quickly ran to the washroom to freshen up. I reported back that I was so clean anal was on the table, joking again about our need to learn ASL so your parents don’t overhear my whore mouth.

Alas, we didn’t get to any penetrative ass play, but I have a feeling we’ll get to it tonight. I have a feeling I’ll beg for it tonight. I suggested we pull the bed away from the wall: I knew how badly my pussy would need a pounding. We arranged the pillows and I stripped down to my orange lace panties (a pair you could’ve ripped, by the way!), flinging myself down on the bed, laying ass up for your admiration. I felt beautifully thick and juicy as I felt your hands grip my ass, raking out over my hips and pulling in at my waist. I let you struggle removing my panties, offering as little help as I could in hopes you’d get frustrated and rip them off me (another day! I’d snipped parts of the lace that morning to give you some starter holes). Your excitement was palpable as you dove between my fat cheeks. I bit down on a pillow to quietly ride out the pleasure I got from feeling your tongue lap at my tight asshole. You were eager: licking the sensitive area between my two holes, circling my pucker and pushing deep. I hope you enjoyed your meal. When you had your fill there was a wet spot on the pillow I’d sucked and a trail of slime on the towel where I’d been grinding my soaking wet slit.

Having recently heard that post-analingus one should brush their teeth or rinse with mouth wash, I asked you to do so. In your absence I flipped over and pushed my hand as deeply as I could into my warm, sloppy pussy. She was ready enough for 3, and then 4, of my small fingers, and I worked them against my G-spot, pressing into it, pushing it like a button and shaking my hand. When you came back I pulled them out, unashamed to be caught. You joked that I hadn’t even rearranged the pillows while you were gone. I’d been busy.

I lifted the dampening towel, wiping my hand as I did, and placed a pillow underneath the towel, then laid back down, on my back this time and with my pelvis now elevated. You dove in for a kiss, and I eagerly drank you in. But my other set of lips quickly demanded attention, and I tapped my mons with a flat palm impatiently, with a look you read clearly.

“Get to work?” you asked, bemused, with a smirk that is devastatingly handsome because it highlights your gorgeous dimples. I nodded emphatically and you obliged.

It’s hard for me to document this bomb head because I’m not 100% sure what happened. I don’t know how much time passed, I don’t even know how many times I came. You licked, you sucked, you circled my clit, you lapped with a flat tongue, you withstood how aggressively I grabbed you by your hair and ground my sopping pussy against your face. You licked the bowl, pushed your soft flat tongue along the planes and creases of my lips, rubbing and engorging the parts we’ve recently discovered: the flesh that covers the long arms of the interior clitoris. You circled the pulsing knot of nerves at the exposed head of my clitoris, erect and peeking out to meet your sweet wet tongue. You pressed up against my clit, encasing it in a kiss and sucking it at the root, flooding blood beneath your caress. You suckled it, gently. It’s hard to describe how I experience pleasure, physiologically, because for women it’s less of a story arc: introduction, inciting actions, climax, denouement. It’s more like soaring plateaus: a rising heat, a concentration of pleasure at the site of sensory input that washes through my body in ripples, unlocking a heightened level of relaxation and release. This is how I can orgasm from nipple play: when my breast tissues are awakened to sensation by touch, aroused by friction and suckling, I can reach a point where the stimulation you give to my nipple feels so delightful that I can’t get enough: I coax you to repeat the motion again and again andagainandagain as locally my touch receptors are overloaded with sensation and systemically my body floods with pleasure. The moment passes not with an ejaculation, there’s little to no feeling of release, the orgasm feels like realising no more pleasure can be mined from those nerve endings. That’s why I don’t know how many times I came in your mouth: you teased each part of my vulva until every millimetre of it was flushed and pulsing and too sensitive to touch. I stopped you when I could no longer handle even the gentlest touch. I stopped you when the throbbing for you deep inside me began to ache.

Usually, I’m happy to suck your dick. Who wouldn’t be, it’s beautiful. Thick, uncut, with a juicy vein that pops out so deliciously: feeling blood rush through that vein under my tongue or my fingertips is intoxicating. Usually, I can’t resist licking up all of the sweet precum you’ve leaked while you’re preoccupied with my pleasure. But that night I was ready to beg to be filled. Mercifully it took little convincing to get you to slide your gorgeous dick into my hot squishy pussy. When I’m as tight as I was, and you’re as hard as you were, I can feel that thick vein rub against my G-spot. It’s to die for. My eyes rolled back involuntarily as you sunk into me, I’m sure it was grotesque and I hope it was at least kinda hot to you that you can make me pull such ugly faces. I’d missed you, and I wrapped my legs around you tightly, hooking my feet to trap you closely to me for a moment, so I could revel in the feeling of being overwhelmed by you: your bare skin against mine, your broad chest everywhere I looked, while I was filled and stretched by your pulsing dick. I breathed you in deeply. When I released you and the head of your dick immediately began to consistently rub against my G-spot, with each ebb and flow. We hadn’t seen each other for a while, and we’d been at it for a bit, so I fully expected for the penetrative component of sex to be over sooner rather than later. Which is why it’s strange to me, in retrospect, that I didn’t chase after my orgasm as soon as I felt it building, racing to beat your ejaculation. I guess it just felt so good that whenever I was getting close I’d stop my frantic rubbing to focus fully for a moment on being penetrated. I think I forestalled my orgasm 3 times, and then I lost myself as you pushed against what I’m assuming is my G spot? You know it, it’s that particularly squishy spot and I know you know when you hit it because you’ll let out a moan – I’m assuming it feels good for you too. Your eyes started to roll back and I’m sure I was spasming when I finally let go and rode out my climax. I knew as I came that I was squirting, it was the feeling of a great orgasm in combination with what I can only eloquently describe as the gushiness that occurs in much smaller volumes during Gspot stilumation. I’m very proud that I didn’t scream laugh through it. You came either at the same time or just after, and I hope your orgasm was satisfying, because you really fucking deserved it, but I was not paying attention. During our routine “was it good for you?” check in I declared excitedly that I’d squirted, with no real proof until I yanked up the towel to clean up and saw the 2 streaks of droplets on the pillow below. RIP your pillow, but it was so sexy and exciting to see what my body had achieved. I would love to hear how it makes you feel to see me lose control and vibrate with pleasure, to know you have me at your mercy. You’re the best lay and the best dude.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/afrs9g/you_made_me_squirt_for_the_first_time

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